The last time I was in New Orleans, I was 17. Now, 11 years later it is a different city and I am a different woman (well, older at least).
The first time I saw New Orleans, it was through the quintessential “kid in the candy shop” eyes. I was 17, alone in the city with no chaperone (sorry Mom, but they were totally nonexistent), I drank Hurricanes while walking down Bourbon Street and I came back with chopped off, orange hair (I kid you not, my mother almost killed me). I did more than just party, I was the Minnesota page at the National Federation of Republican Women – yeah me, the little Lefty. I do remember loving the Audubon Zoo and the bayou. I remember eating soft shell crab at Antoine's and hating it and I remember eating lunch on the floor of the Superdome, I even remember the little Superdome shaped chocolate shells they filled with raspberry mouse. I remember a lot about the wonderful city.
And in August 2005, all those memories came back to me when the storm hit. I sat in my dry and warm apartment outside of Washington, DC and watched as the US government failed hundreds of thousands of Americans when they left people there without help for days.
And now, more than two years since the storm and the city is still in disarray. The downtown is back to order, mostly. The French Quarter where the Superdome and Convention Center are is back up and running, Bourbon is still partying and there are 50 more restaurants now than before the storm. But, don’t look too close. Don’t scratch the surface because if you do, you will find that things are not back to normal.
Before the storm there were almost 700,000 people in New Orleans, today there are about 200,000. Most the people who are back are either the really rich (their neighborhoods didn’t flood) or the people who work in the service industry and depend on tourists.
The poor are still there; living in FIMA trailer parks -- they put on a smile and call them “gated communities.” There are streets after streets with no one living on them. There are houses gutted, roofs caving in and windows busted out donning the infamous spray painted “X.” And you can drive for miles and be the only car on the roads in some neighborhoods.
But there is good news, tourism is becoming popular again. Hotels and airlines are offering packages. The tourists are bringing people and money back in to the region. And the universities which had seem fallen enrollment in all grades for the first time since the storm expect that this year’s freshman class will be as high as it was before Katrina.
There is hope. And for all of you who want to know about the city or what little piece of help you can offer, my advice is go visit. They need us. They need tourists, they need revenue we can bring in and not only that they want us there. So go to NOLA.
Now, as you all know, this is a phlog, so I need to stop typing and show you some photos.
View from my hotel to the Mississippi. To the South.
To the North. 
The street cars. These are replicas of the ones that the Tennessee Williams' Streetcar Named Desire was written about. 
Open up this photo and look closely at the tree with out leaves. This is St. Charles Street, also known as Mardi Gras path.
In Antoine's Restaurant, the historic Mardi Gras Queen's dresses and jewels.
I vote this the most annoying job yet, that is the woman who stands on the steam boat and plays all day. I kept hoping she would be blown off (but, not injured of course).
Jackson Square.
A shotgun house. In the old days, in NOLA the houses we taxed on the lengths of the front of the house. So they tried to make them as small as possible. This yellow house is a duplex!!!!
More tomorrow, I have a series from the one of the historic cemeteries, referred to as "Cities of the Dead," and I will tell you about the unique above ground burial system.
The first time I saw New Orleans, it was through the quintessential “kid in the candy shop” eyes. I was 17, alone in the city with no chaperone (sorry Mom, but they were totally nonexistent), I drank Hurricanes while walking down Bourbon Street and I came back with chopped off, orange hair (I kid you not, my mother almost killed me). I did more than just party, I was the Minnesota page at the National Federation of Republican Women – yeah me, the little Lefty. I do remember loving the Audubon Zoo and the bayou. I remember eating soft shell crab at Antoine's and hating it and I remember eating lunch on the floor of the Superdome, I even remember the little Superdome shaped chocolate shells they filled with raspberry mouse. I remember a lot about the wonderful city.
And in August 2005, all those memories came back to me when the storm hit. I sat in my dry and warm apartment outside of Washington, DC and watched as the US government failed hundreds of thousands of Americans when they left people there without help for days.
And now, more than two years since the storm and the city is still in disarray. The downtown is back to order, mostly. The French Quarter where the Superdome and Convention Center are is back up and running, Bourbon is still partying and there are 50 more restaurants now than before the storm. But, don’t look too close. Don’t scratch the surface because if you do, you will find that things are not back to normal.
Before the storm there were almost 700,000 people in New Orleans, today there are about 200,000. Most the people who are back are either the really rich (their neighborhoods didn’t flood) or the people who work in the service industry and depend on tourists.
The poor are still there; living in FIMA trailer parks -- they put on a smile and call them “gated communities.” There are streets after streets with no one living on them. There are houses gutted, roofs caving in and windows busted out donning the infamous spray painted “X.” And you can drive for miles and be the only car on the roads in some neighborhoods.
But there is good news, tourism is becoming popular again. Hotels and airlines are offering packages. The tourists are bringing people and money back in to the region. And the universities which had seem fallen enrollment in all grades for the first time since the storm expect that this year’s freshman class will be as high as it was before Katrina.
There is hope. And for all of you who want to know about the city or what little piece of help you can offer, my advice is go visit. They need us. They need tourists, they need revenue we can bring in and not only that they want us there. So go to NOLA.
Now, as you all know, this is a phlog, so I need to stop typing and show you some photos.
View from my hotel to the Mississippi. To the South.
To the North. 
The street cars. These are replicas of the ones that the Tennessee Williams' Streetcar Named Desire was written about. 
Open up this photo and look closely at the tree with out leaves. This is St. Charles Street, also known as Mardi Gras path. 
In Antoine's Restaurant, the historic Mardi Gras Queen's dresses and jewels. 
I vote this the most annoying job yet, that is the woman who stands on the steam boat and plays all day. I kept hoping she would be blown off (but, not injured of course).
Jackson Square. 
A shotgun house. In the old days, in NOLA the houses we taxed on the lengths of the front of the house. So they tried to make them as small as possible. This yellow house is a duplex!!!!
More tomorrow, I have a series from the one of the historic cemeteries, referred to as "Cities of the Dead," and I will tell you about the unique above ground burial system.
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